


Less Reflex and More Desire

by trololoception



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-16
Updated: 2011-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trololoception/pseuds/trololoception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally <a href="http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/17947.html?thread=39128859#t39128859">here</a>.</p><p>Written for an inception_kink prompt: You know those semi-hurt/comfort scenes in movies where one character, who's generally older and more experienced with action/violence, instinctively moves to protect someone when gunfire erupts or something explodes? I would love to see Arthur or Eames do that for someone - a team member or child or bystander/projection or otherwise - in a dream or in reality. Or one of the two does it for the other, in which case, bonus points if they're in the middle of annoying each other or outright arguing when it happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Less Reflex and More Desire

When Arthur arrives at their new workplace Ariadne glances up and says hi before going back to her sketches; she’s in the zone and she wants to have most of it fleshed out before Cobb arrives.

It isn’t until she’s completely starving that she decides to take a break, still frowning down at her sketches while she stretches, yawning. She tears her gaze away to look around; Yusuf is by Arthur’s desk, talking, and trying to offer Arthur something in a vial while Arthur shakes his head, a wry smile on his face when Ariadne approaches.

“The last time I took something from you it didn’t work out so well,” he points out.

“You trap someone in deep sleep once and they never let you forget it,” Yusuf mutters, giving Ariadne a commiserating look. She just smirks back at him, leaning against Arthur’s desk.

“Fine, suffer,” Yusuf says, throwing his hands up, “I don’t care. God, what is it with American men and their desire to grunt through the pain?”

“Chicks dig it,” Arthur offers, and shares a restrained grin with Ariadne.

“Nothing hotter than a guy in excruciating agony,” Ariadne affirms cheerfully.

“Is that so,” Yusuf says, a glint coming into his eyes. “So that must be why you like a certain someone so much, someone who’s definitely still in pain-”

“So what’s wrong with you?” Ariadne interrupts bluntly, ignoring them when Yusuf and Arthur exchange amused looks. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“It’s not like I tripped and accidentally shot myself,” Arthur says irritably.

“Thanks for the hilarious image,” Ariadne says, grinning.

“You weren’t kidding about liking men in pain, were you,” Yusuf says, eyeing her cautiously.

“You know, a pained expression would probably be an improvement on your face,” Ariadne says conversationally, advancing a small step towards Yusuf. “Why don’t I help you with that-”

“Lunch break now,” Yusuf declares hastily, giving them a salute and beating a path towards the exit.

“Wuss,” Ariadne says after him, then turns back to Arthur, who’s definitely amused now.

“Anyway,” she says, pointed, and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s nothing, Ariadne. Not the first time I’ve been shot, and it should heal soon. I’m feeling hungry, too, want to chase down Yusuf and grab lunch together?” Arthur gets up from his chair and starts sliding on his jacket, and Ariadne sees it, the slight awkwardness with the motion of his right arm when he moves.

“You actually were shot?” Ariadne asks, eyes wide as she follows him out of the warehouse.

“Oh, boy,” Arthur says, and then calls out, “Hey, wait up,” Yusuf turning and pausing for them to catch up.

Ariadne tries to get the details out of Arthur at lunch but he just shakes his head at her, indulgent, and only says he was shot on a previous job, and trust him, the guy who shot him definitely did not escape in as good a condition as Arthur did.

“Is he even alive?” Yusuf asks, eyebrows raised. Arthur doesn’t answer, taking a drink from his glass, his smirk curving over the rim.

Ariadne is distracted when they get back by the fact that Cobb is at the warehouse when they get back, looking over her sketches while he waits for them.

“Arthur,” Cobb says, raising his eyebrows. “Eames told me to keep an eye on you until he arrived. You alright?” Arthur rolls his eyes while Ariadne looks at him curiously.

“I’m fine. Eames needs to mind his own business,” Arthur says firmly, giving them all quelling looks before heading to his desk.

And Ariadne’s still curious, but Cobb starts asking her questions about the design of the second level and Ariadne is caught up with defending her work and trying to incorporate Cobb and Arthur’s suggestions into it.

They work steadily for a few days, Yusuf trying to perfect a better compound with lesser side effects while Cobb and Arthur go over the intel, Cobb coming over every now and then to comment on her work, Arthur disappearing periodically to make angry phone calls or stalk their mark or whatever it is he does. Eames isn’t due to arrive for a little less than a week, wrapping up a job of his own before he flies over, and without him around the warehouse is definitely quieter.

And Arthur is definitely...weirder.

Ariadne looks up from her work to see Arthur fidgeting in his chair for the umpteenth time, twirling a pen in his fingers in a nervous tic. She chalks it up to too much coffee or some weird side effect of the injury, or maybe of some medication if Yusuf managed to convince Arthur to take his drugs.

Ariadne finally gets up to talk to him after it’s been days and Arthur is getting even twitchier as the hours progress.

“So you’ve been moving kinda weird lately,” Ariadne says bluntly, giving him a suspicious look. Arthur looks at her, then down at his arm, then back at her.

“Maybe because I was shot in the arm,” he points out helpfully, his mouth curling upwards just slightly.

“No, not just that – you get shot once and your whole personality changes?” she asks, gesturing at him. He looks down, frowning. He’s wearing a pearl button up shirt with dress pants and a matching jacket slung over his chair. He looks back up at her.

“Buttons are difficult for an injured shoulder,” he says, just on the wrong side of defensive. “I didn’t feel up to a waistcoat today.”

“I wasn’t talking about your clothes, god, no one cares about your clothes except you,” Ariadne says, rolling her eyes. “I’m talking about how weird you’re being. You keep checking your phone and staring off into space. Plus you’re polishing your gun even more than usual. Not too injured to clean all your toys a million times every day, huh,” she adds pointedly, eyes narrowing.

“They’re not toys,” Arthur says sharply, brows drawing together. Ariadne just raises an eyebrow when he reaches out to take his gun in hand again, almost protectively.

“It’s nothing,” he insists when she just looks at him. “Don’t worry about it. Go work on the second level, it’s still looking structurally weak,” he adds. She gives him a narrow-eyed look and says, “Fine,” stalking back to her desk to work. He’s right anyway, annoyingly, and she gets back to work.

\--

When Eames finally arrives he both clears things up and makes things more confusing.

Arthur’s on his feet and moving towards Eames even as the man is coming through the door, looking rumpled and tired from the airplane.

“Arthur,” Eames says in casual greeting, then reaches out to take Arthur by the hips and hauls him in for a kiss, Arthur’s hands curling around Eames’ jaw. Ariadne gapes at them, and turns to see that Yusuf is staring with the same expression. Cobb is outside, calling Miles to check up on the kids, and completely missing out on the developments inside.

“Any injuries?” Arthur asks, pulling back to run his hands down Eames’ chest and across his shoulders, gaze critical. “You’re alright?”

“Never better,” Eames says, smiling, and pulls him back in again, just kissing Arthur deeper when Arthur tries to pull away, running a hand up and down Arthur’s side and thigh. When Arthur slides his arms around Eames’ neck Eames bends down slightly and grips the back of Arthur’s thighs, lifting him, Arthur’s legs coming around his waist easily in an almost practiced move. Arthur pulls away for a moment, resting his head back against the wall Eames is pressing him up against. Both of his hands are on Eames’ face, his thumbs stroking at the curves of Eames’ cheeks. He tilts his head and gives Eames a small, indulgent smile.

“Really? Here?” Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow; he doesn’t honestly look all that upset about it, which is even more surprising.

“I haven’t seen you in ages, pet, indulge me for a moment when I say I need to feel you up close,” Eames murmurs, and presses Arthur into the wall again to kiss him properly.

“You could’ve called and told me to meet you at the hotel in private,” Arthur points out when Eames breaks away reluctantly.

“I haven’t slept a wink and I’ve been running a bit ragged on the other job,” Eames says defensively, “I’m not exactly at my best, Arthur.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have made the assumption that you’re capable of thought. That was wrong of me, I apologize,” Arthur says, tamping down on a smile. Eames growls at him.

“You saying things like this is exactly what led to you being shot,” he says, looking down at Arthur’s arm. “How is it?”

“I’ll live,” Arthur says dismissively, watching his own fingers trace patterns along Eames’ jaw, down to his shoulders. Eames glances back at Arthur’s face, frowning.

“I’d be a lot more assured of that fact if you hadn’t stepped in front of a speeding bullet, darling,” Eames drawls, exasperated. “What were you thinking?”

“Forgive me for trying to save your life,” Arthur shoots back dryly. “I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t been distracted.”

“You were the one distracting me! Honestly, you were – you are the most infuriating thing – and I would have dodged it in time, Arthur,” Eames adds irritably.

“Doubtful. Anyway, I couldn’t help it. It’s a reflex to protect those weaker than me,” Arthur says, his eyes narrowing.

“Infuriating,” Eames says, in the tones of someone who is completely resigned to his fate. He drops his forehead to rest against Arthur’s, smiling. “You’d rather step in front of a bullet instead of conceding an argument-” Eames cuts himself off by leaning forward to kiss Arthur again. “It’s good to see you, finally,” Eames says against Arthur’s mouth, looking into Arthur's eyes, his lips brushing against Arthur’s with every word.

“Hmm.” Arthur leans forward to press a kiss to Eames’ mouth before pulling back and squeezing his fingers around Eames’ bicep. He’s smiling. “Now let go, we’ve got work to do.”

“Infuriating,” Eames reiterates, fond, and lets Arthur step back onto the ground. Eames moves towards Arthur’s desk. “Where are we off to?”

“I’ll catch you up in the car,” Arthur says, frowning, “What are you-” Eames grabs Arthur’s coat from his chair and comes back to help Arthur into it, poking at Arthur’s back and his good arm until he reluctantly shrugs it on.

“I just figure you would catch a chill and die from a cold instead of a bullet wound,” Eames says matter-of-factly. Arthur shoots him a flat look, and Ariadne finally lets herself laugh. They turn to look at her, Eames directing his gaze back to Arthur after a second, amused, while Arthur just looks pained, as if he’s just realizing what everyone in the warehouse must have witnessed.

“So this is why you were acting all weird?” Ariadne asks, raising an eyebrow. “You were pining?”

“Ariadne-” Arthur starts, warning, but Eames looks at him delightedly and interrupts him, “Pining? Pining? What pining, Arthur? Why, I’m flattered-”

“I am going to make sure you never get your degree,” Arthur threatens Ariadne darkly, his head turning midway through his sentence so he can look at her even as Eames is steering him away, a hand at the small of Arthur’s back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll forge you one if needs must,” Eames calls to her cheerfully before waving at her and pulling a complaining Arthur gently out of the warehouse. Eames says hello to Cobb in passing when Cobb comes back through the door.

“Right, so here’s the plan,” Yusuf says, coming up to her and talking in conspiratorially low tones. “We get someone to try to shoot Cobb and you step in front of him. If it worked for them it can probably work for you too.”

“The looking good in pain thing only applies to men,” Ariadne hisses, stepping on his foot, glaring at him.

“Ow! – you could probably get Arthur to be the shooter, if you asked nicely enough,” Yusuf adds.

“The only one who’s going to get shot around here is you,” Ariadne says, but she’s grinning, and Yusuf grins back at her before they retreat back to their own workspaces to work the afternoon away amiably. Arthur and Eames come back a few hours later from tailing the mark with new intel and Arthur’s still acting weird but in a different way, now, and at least he’s smiling, letting Eames steal kisses from him when he passes Arthur’s desk, Eames twining their fingers together when he leans against Arthur’s desk to refine the details of the plan. They leave together when it turns dark, Eames holding the door open for Arthur and teasing an actual laugh from him right before the door clicks shut again.

Ariadne’s getting ready to head back as well when Cobb comes over to her desk, hands in his pockets and squinting in the direction of the door where Arthur and Eames were just a moment ago.

“Is it just me or have Arthur and Eames been acting strangely?” Cobb asks.

“Sometimes it makes me worry that he’s the best extractor in the business,” Yusuf says seriously, passing them on his way out. Ariadne just grins at Cobb and grabs her coat, calling out, “Wait up!” and jogging a little while Yusuf pauses for her to catch up.

Arthur’s not the only one who can act a little weird every now and then.


End file.
